Quills and Tuesdays
by turquoisesky2
Summary: Hermione has something to tell Ron, but not before they bicker.  R/Hr Fluff.


**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and its characters.**

_Enjoy!_

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><p>Ron Weasley was reading. Yes, reading. And it wasn't <em>Quidditch Through the Ages<em> or _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_, but rather a book that Hermione had given him for Christmas. Not his best gift that year, compared to the Chudley Cannons sweatshirt from Harry, which was a nice addition to his winter apparel that consisted mostly of Weasley jumpers.

He lounged on his bed, skimming a ridiculously boring line in the book, when he heard Hermione fling open the bedroom door and slam it behind her.

Ron smirked and shoved his book aside. "So you want it every twenty minutes now, love?"

Hermione blushed, but her face displayed anger. "No, Mr. Desperate!" Hermione retorted sardonically. "What have I been telling you about the quills everyday since the day we got married?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, it hasn't been _everyday_."

"Ron, _what_ have I been telling you?"

"Not to leave the quills out," Ron answered sheepishly.

"And look what I found in Crookshanks' mouth because _you_ didn't put it away!" She held up a tattered quill that resembled one of Great Aunt Muriel's hideous brooches.

Ron shrugged. "So?"

"He could have choked to death, _Ronald_."

"Oh Merlin's beard, Hermione. It's a bloody cat! And what do I care, it hates me anyway!"

"You never listen to me!" Hermione scolded, "And don't swear!"

Ron grabbed his book and stood up so that he was towering over Hermione. "Never listen to you? Hermione, I'm reading the ruddy book you practically forced into my hands!"

"That's different. It's for your own good to read!"

"My own good? Reading about some bloke who decoded a set of runes a hundred years ago?"

"Ron, you failed your History of Magic O.W.L. You need to expand your historical knowledge."

"Are you calling me a stupid git?"

Hermione plopped down on the bed and puts her head in her hands.

"What is this? A new technique? A silent treatment? Are we back in third year again?" Ron yelled at her.

Hermione sighed. "I was planning on telling you something tonight. But I guess since we're in the middle of a row, it wouldn't be fitting."

"Bloody hell, just get on with it," said Ron, shaking his head.

With an uneven breath, Hermione gave in. "Fine." She paused. "Ron, I'm pregnant." Hermione had trouble meeting his eyes. Ron just stared at her, his mouth agape.

"WHAT?"

"You have ears! We're having a baby, Ronald." Hermione started to cry uncontrollably, turning away from her husband. Glancing at Hermione's abdomen, Ron's eyes lit up and his face crinkled in a goofy grin that only he could muster.

"Hermione, that's brilliant! A baby!" Ron began to laugh, a great contrast to his wife's hysteria.

"Ronald, this is serious!" Hermione choked out between sobs. "This is a live child we're talking about!"

Ron completely disregarded their argument and took Hermione by the shoulders to kiss her right on the mouth. He sat next to her and pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head and stroking her bushy brown hair. She had begun to calm down, but was still gasping for breath. Ron wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Hermione this is fantastic! I can just see it: a little ginger know-it-all running around here." Ron paused, nodding his head, "This'll make me put the quills away."

Hermione laughed and said weakly, "So you're happy?"

"Get over yourself, you know I am," he answered, a grin still plastered on his freckly face.

"Me, too!" Hermione beamed. "Can you believe it? We hadn't even been talking about starting a family! I mean, how did this happen?"

"Well, I can think of _loads_ of times it could've happened. Maybe last Tuesday after the—or then maybe an hour later when we—"

"Oh, Ron, you know what I mean!" Hermione smacked Ron on the arm.

"Merlin, you're sexy when you do that." Ron's eyes scanned Hermione as she scowled back at him.

"Just snog me, you prat."

Ron attacked Hermione's face, kissing her with all the passion and glee of the moment. Sliding the clutter off the bed, including Ron's book, and to Hermione's dismay, a few quills, they both looked forward to a night that they knew would turn out to be even more fun than last Tuesday.


End file.
